Busy with colour, the fast night shouted her down and refused to listen to her protests. Still she screamed across the square, but each syllable of her pain was immediately swept away and all that the tourists noticed was a mute nightingale cruelly pigeonholed by a half forgotton song.
And still she screamed.
Feb 5, 2019
Feb 5, 2019 at 4:26 PM UTC
Busy with colour, the fast night shouted her down and refused to listen to her protests. Still she screamed across the square, but each syllable of her pain was immediately swept away and all that the tourists noticed was a mute nightingale cruelly pigeonholed by a half forgotton song.
And still she screamed.
Times change.
